I have been studying a particular type of calligraphy/lettering of which there is not much literature available. That is, there are no books on the subject that I can purchase. It has been by far the most difficult one for me to gain even a fraction of visible growth. My attempts have felt clumsy and uninformed. My impression of myself is like a phrase a character—in a show or movie I watched recently but don’t remember—an uncoordinated octopus.
The style I am referring to is built-up letters, also known as drawn capitals, or letters influenced by Herman Killian. These letters, at first glance, look simple and easy. Nothing is farther from the truth. The nuances and delicate traces in this type of calligraphy seem untamable to me.
In 2020, I started studying this style by taking a class with Sylvia Cordero Vega. She is located in Argentina. Her work is beautiful. I couldn’t finish the entire course but I got the basics. Then, in 2022, I registered to take a class with Yves Leterme. It was a very in depth and well taught class. His lettering is simply superb. This year I took two classes with Jurgen Vercaemst who also runs a nice and quaint bed and breakfast, coffee shop, and shop in Belgium, called Morris Coffee and Crafts. His work is breathtaking. In the summer I took a class with Yukimi Annand. Her work is what I consider masterful.
These instructors all are incredibly proficient at what they do. My eyes glaze and paralyze over their work with envy. One look at any of their Instagram accounts would cause you to gasp in awe. The beauty of each letter form and stroke is exquisitely made. The attention to the details, the rhythm of the letters, and the proportions and spacing on the invisible baseline is so well considered that leaves one wondering, how?
My work so far seems to have been waiting for the beautiful moment when my skills match my brain’s understanding. I get it, in my mind. I see it in their work. I observe their hands. I study their letters during and after the classes. Yet, the moment I do it, my skill makes it very clear that the gap between brain and skill is, by all accounts, large.
Sometimes our progress is painfully slow and it seems that no amount of time dedicated to the craft will pay off. Sometimes that is true. Of course, I have wondered if this calligraphy style is for me. The dedication and slowness which seems to be deeply meditative does not come natural to me. This style requires patience, endurance, and attentiveness to each small stroke of the pen or pencil. Still, my fascination and attraction to these letters has not waned or weakened.
All I can do is keep practicing, keep doing, keep reworking, and keep studying. I wish there was a calligraphy book that included this style. There is a scrapbooking book I found with a very similarly style for scrapbookers. However, there are only two pages of instruction.
Learning new things is challenging but it is also rich with experiences and lessons beyond the actual subject. If nothing else, it teaches us humility. It also teaches us that we are all uncoordinated octopuses trying to make it. Invisible growth is still growth, albeit slow and painful at first.
Alma Hoffmann is a freelance designer, design educator, author of Sketching as Design Thinking, and editor at Smashing Magazine. This was originally posted on Temperamental amusing shenanigans, Alma’s Substack dedicated to design, life, and everything in between.
Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash.